To Each His Own
by Topaz Fox
Summary: They were strange, especially as a pair. One went astray and happened to be found, one was safe and chose to go astray...but they were made for each other, so what did it matter?


(Yo! Topaz speaking. Here we go...another strange Axelcentric pairing! But, truthfully, aren't the odd ones the most interesting? The idea for this came on its own, but I started writing it to The Fray's "Over My Head (Cablecar)", and so here it is. Read and review, folks, if you please :) Enjoy! --Topaz Fox)

(**Disclaimer:** I own no characters or plots or anything that has to do with Kingdom Hearts or its sequels.)

That night, there was a stranger in the Usual Spot.

He came disguised under two darknesses: the natural darkness, the night, thin like smoggy mist, and the unnatural darkness, the heavy black robe spread thick against his skin, indulged by tassels and snaps of memory-clear silver. Though he moved with a self-assured grace that should have captivated many, he exuded so much nothingness that, to most, it was like he wasn't there.

Throwing back his hood, he revealed a wildfire of red-spiked hair and a clever, handsome face. The fact that this was so forbidden, even beyond against orders, only excited him and made him want more. Onyx and sapphire flames danced in his impenetrable eyes, illuminating the night with auroral prescience as he tried to comprehend the punishment for this. He snickered. _A lot worse than being turned into a Dusk. Maybe death? No. Death is more like a reward._

One tentative word unrolled from his lips, awkward at first but evening out into something regal: "Olette?" He paused, anticipating something, before whispering, "You there, babe?"

No response. He sighed and strode over to the great scarred old icebox, then wrapped his unfeeling gloved hand around the handle and swung open the door. After an interlude of hushed rustling, he pulled out a white plastic package. He twisted the top, splitting the package neatly down the seams and exposing an ice cream bar as blue as the little marks tattooed beneath his eyes.

He flopped down onto the ragged couch in the corner of the room. He hoisted his feet, still confined in black boots, up onto the couch arm and ploughed into the ice cream. Not bothering to lick it, he instead sunk his teeth in and ripped off an enormous bite, shuddering with pleasure. As usual, he couldn't taste anything, put the cold sensation alone gave him something close to joy. It helped cool the flames that permanently curled in his gaping hole of a heart.

Time passed. The ice cream vanished, and the stranger had chewed its wooden stick to a splintered, disfigured mass. He cast the once-was-a-stick aside and rolled over. _She's still not here. Maybe I should just leave…_

"Axel?" He sat bolt upright at the sudden voice, a grin tearing across his face. "Olette!" he said, a bit too loudly. He stood to his full, impressive height and welcomed the girl with outstretched arms. She dove into his embrace and nudged against him like a puppy. Their two scents, one of stale spice and one of cheap teen perfume, mingled and braided into the air.

When they had both calmed down a bit, Axel tugged at one of the ringlets that dipped down behind Olette's ear. He smiled as it bounced back into place when he released it, a perfect chocolate twist once more. "Sorry I was so late," she murmured. "My mom woke up, and I had to make up an explanation and pretend to go to sleep and…"

"No excuse needed," Axel interrupted. He bent down just enough to let his lips meet Olette's. Their mouths jostled together, melting smoothly into cool passion, sweet like the moment before rain or the lingering smell of smoke or maybe a little of both. Axel got a better grip and kissed her harder, making her sit down on the sofa. He was just fingering the edge of her shirt when she broke the kiss and grinned at him. "Been stealing our ice cream again?" He grinned back. "Damn right. That stuff is good."

The two fell back onto the couch, Olette on top of Axel. She, flat on her stomach, soaked up his empty warmth while he traced the casual cut of her tank top. "Axel, is this…right?" she asked, her voice wet with innocence. "I mean…you know…us. It just doesn't seem like it should, well, _be_." She looked away for just a moment before letting her emerald eyes rest on him again. "I mean, I'm usually the sensible one. But…I can't help feeling this is anything but sensible."

Axel laughed just a bit, barely more than a scratch of sound in the back of his throat. "Well, like they say, 'To each his own.' Actually, I don't really know who 'they' are, but they seem to have got it right." His hand moved up to the top of her head and he stroked her hair slightly. "Before I came to this town, I thought about that a lot. I never had a 'my own'; it that place where I work, that Organization I told you about, they don't really believe in anything like that. That didn't stop me from looking everywhere I went for someone that could—and would—make me feel okay. Then…then I found you, and the rest is history."

Olette just smiled up at him. "You're rambling," she teased quietly. He blushed a slight scarlet on his nose and cheekbones. "Yeah. Um. Right. It's 'cause I like you so much, I guess." He touched her affectionately on the nose before looking at the clock on the wall.

He stood. "I gotta go, babe," he said reluctantly. Olette was visibly disappointed. "Already? I was looking forward to getting a chance to talk to you." He smirked good-naturedly. "Well, it doesn't help that _somebody _was late. And anyways, you gotta sleep sometime, kid." He bent down to plant a loyal kiss on her forehead. "Don't you worry. I'll be back before you know it."

Turning and sweeping toward the door, he turned around once and gave Olette something she could never quite get out of her mind: his trademark smile, rough around the edges and daredevlish, challenging. He flashed a thumbs-up sign before vanishing, tossing a hushed "Bye!" over his shoulder as he left.

Long after Axel had gone, Olette remained. His touch lingered like a burn, and she could still feel every exact spot where his hand had brushed her skin. She sat on the couch and thought about Axel, remembering all the times—each one of them secret as a moon's dark side—she had spent with Axel. Some of the memories made her blush, and she felt shame's tiny caress. She was dizzy in love with a stranger to her world, a traitor, maybe, or a spy. The possibilities were endless.

But then something dawned on her. Maybe he was just…just Axel. Just Axel, and just perfect. Maybe they really _were _made for each other, in some backward way that made reverse sense. Perhaps everything was perfect as it was. Like Axel had said…

"_To each his own."_

-Fin-


End file.
